


Piece by Piece

by yansurnummu



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 15:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15911037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yansurnummu/pseuds/yansurnummu
Summary: The courier was beginning to grow on him, despite it all.





	Piece by Piece

“God, I can't believe you did that,” Arcade mutters, nudging his glasses up the bridge of his nose as another bit of metal clatters onto the tray.

“I didn't have time to think, Cade,” the courier whines. “I just - ow!” he hisses as another shard of shrapnel is pulled from his skin, this one a little deeper than the rest.

“So your first instinct was to tackle me,”

“Soon as I saw him holding the grenade, yeah!” he winces as he moves his arm too quickly, before falling silent and leaning over the back of the old chair once more.

“You're lucky all you got was a shoulder full of shrapnel,” Arcade sighs, returning to work.

“Better than a dead doctor,” he mumbles. Said doctor rolls his eyes - mostly out of recently-learned habit, as his back is turned to him.

“It was still stupid. Reckless,” he scolds him, setting down the tweezers and retrieving a needle. He feels something akin to gratitude despite himself, the severity of Nate’s actions not lost on him. _He very well might have saved your life,_ he thinks to himself. The courier doesn't say anything as he begins to thread the needle through his skin, stitching together the larger wounds. Eventually Arcade hears him work his lighter, the smell of tobacco filling the room as he breathes deeply.

“What do you want from me?” when he finally speaks, his voice is soft, tired. “I didn't think about it, I just… don't want nobody else gettin’ hurt ‘cause of me,” the doctor frowns as he finishes patching him up, setting down his tools and removing his bloody gloves. He moves his chair around so he's face to face with Nate, slumped over the back of his own chair with a cigarette between his lips. He looks up at him curiously as he exhales smoke, dark hair beginning to come loose from its bun and fall messily into his face.

“Nate, you are so goddamn stupid,” Arcade begins, and the courier only nods, his eyes falling back to the floor. “But you're _brave_. You're so selfless it _hurts._  And... I do admire that about you,” he looks back up at him with those big brown puppy eyes, and Arcade sighs. “I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I just wish you valued your _own_ life a little more,” he says softly before picking the cigarette from the courier’s fingers, who doesn't protest as Arcade puts the filter to his own lips. Arcade watches the corner of his mouth twitch into a smirk before he speaks up.

“So you admire me?” Nate grins as he rolls his eyes, visibly this time, then laughs when a plume of smoke is blown in his face. Arcade smiles as he watches the courier for a moment, his chin rested on his forearms; he studies the horrible gash of a scar on his scalp hidden partially by long black hair, the brass tooth behind one of his canines that only shows when he grins this bright. For all his damage, all his scars, all his day-old eyeliner and coffee breath, Arcade can't help but look upon him with a fondness he can't say he's felt for anyone else. He exhales smoke and suddenly finds himself leaning towards him, no longer able to resist the pull.

Their lips meet before he really knows what he's doing, his eyes fluttering shut as a soft sound escapes Nate’s throat and he presses into his doctor. It's gentle, all things considered; Nate cups his face as he lets him in, calloused fingertips and short beard rough on Arcade’s skin in comparison to his soft lips moving gingerly against his. Arcade relishes the bitter taste of black coffee and nicotine on his tongue, the pleased sigh he releases when his teeth catch on his lip in parting. Nate chases him as far as the back of the chair will allow him as the doctor pulls away, and he hides his smirk behind the cigarette when he relents.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Nate mutters, a little breathless. Arcade only chuckles, snuffing out the remains of the cigarette in the ashtray on the table as he stands.


End file.
